Rude Awakenings part two: Lord of the Rings
by scarlet dragon
Summary: Tony and Middle-Earth. what is there to tell about a girl with an attitude and a lot of chivalrous people! part two of a series! chapter three, they're off to meet Denethor, but then...R
1. chapter 1

Rude awakenings part two 

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Tony 

'Ow! Damn you, you fuckin' tree! What the hell is your problem!' Tony had never seen a wood this dense before. The air was warm, really warm. Like, almost unnatural. Where in the world was she? Well, she was definitely not home.  She looked around to see if there was an exit anywhere, but was unable to find one. She cursed, again.

And again.

And again.

Until, it seemed, the forest could bare it no longer. Branches were shooing her this way and that, until she was out of the forest. She looked back as the branches used the wind to wave their goodbyes. 

'Bunch of wimps.' Tony said to herself, and started walking. She had walked for quite a while now, and still no sign of anything that even suggested habitation. Tony had been part of the girl-scouts, so she knew how to read nature pretty well. It wasn't long till she finally am across a sign of habitation. And what kind of sign.

'…This time, they did not get away!' The first, what appeared to be a soldier replied.

'They will think twice now, before crossing our borders. We have shown them enough strength in battle to make sure of that.' The second soldier replied. Both men laughed heartily at this, and ate some of the deer that was hanging over the fire they sat at. Tony, who had walked for some hours without food or water, was hungry as heck. She decided to throw caution aside. After all, what was caution, if there was no one around to practice it? She stepped out of the bushes she was hiding in and walked towards the fire.

'Hello, my merry men! What's for dinner?' She said, in as middle-aged a way as she could muster with an empty stomach. The soldiers stopped laughing, and looked at her. This was a strange woman, wearing even more strange attire.

'Stag, My lady. Would you care to join us?'

'Would I ever!' Tony said, and accepted a peace of stag that was handed to her by soldier number one. After all, this Middle-Earth, and people were polite to women, even if they wore strange clothing. At least, that's what soldiers one and two had been taught. But still, a woman wearing trousers? This was odd. Maybe they had best bring her to the Steward. He would know what to do. They hoped so, at least. 

So, the men took Tony with them on their journey back to Gondor. She soon learned about the house of the Stewards, the current Steward, Denethor the second, and his sons Boromir and Faramir. Tony asked them questions, but they were more in the lines of dinner, other peoples that inhabited Middle-Earth, and languages. She then found out that she had been speaking fluent Westron, and couldn't remember ever learning it. That was strange. Oh well, who cares. She thought to herself. But, sub-consciously, it stuck and started to vegetate. Waiting for an opportunity to jump out and munch. You see, fact was that Tony wasn't easily surprised. Her reaction to the forest made that quite obvious. Yet, she did notice things. But stress would just have to wait till later. 

The two men she was travelling with were called Erthador and Barahir. Tony knew this name, because Aragon had a ring that had belonged to someone with that name once. Janet had told her that, in the time that she couldn't choose between Aragorn and Legolas. Tony had found it easy to choose, Aragorn. But in the end, from Janet's point of view, Legolas had prevailed. 

The journey took longer than Tony had expected, though the men were praising their horses for making such good time, being each burdened with a passenger every other day. Tony , however, became tired and her bum was getting very sore indeed. She felt this more and more each day, though she never complained about it. She was hoping more skin would magically appear in her rear-end to make the journey less painful. Alas, more of nothing showed up, and the journey seemed to go on forever.  And it wasn't just the pain, the scenery was always the same, wherever they went. Tony was getting bored. She practically fell asleep the moment she stepped up behind one of the soldiers, and they had to prod her occasionally to keep her awake. But the peace wouldn't last much longer.


	2. chapter 2

Chapter two 

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Tony and 'the guys', as our heroine had lovingly named them, were getting ever closer to their destination. They had been travelling for more than two weeks now, and Tony's outfit had started to smell, something awful. She was glad when her newfound friends had told her that there was only one more week of what she considered absolute torment, but what de guys thought was a lovely ride. 

They had finally reached the mountains, and were nearly over them. This was the end of the last day but one, and Tony was happily curled up in her horse-blanket, and thinking of chips, and pepsi, and dvd's, and… well, you get my drift. Anyway, everybody was at ease.

Until all hell broke loose.

Cries were heard coming from nearby, and all of a sudden the orcs were everywhere. Erthador and Barahir were on their feet faster than you could say; 'Hey, where did my entrails go?'. Tony, however, was a bit slower. But still a danger, as we shall soon find out. At first, she was a bit reluctant. After all, her guys seemed to be doing just fine on their own. Until Barahir got hurt. And, as those who've read Part One of this quartet obviously know, Tony doesn't like it when her friends get hurt. With a roar, she jumped on the nearest orc and tried to wrestle him to the ground. What she didn't realise at that moment was that she had his neck in an arm-lock, and she broke it. The orc lay there, dead at her feet, but Tony didn't have time to mind that, as she grabbed the nearest weapon from another dead orc, and started chopping away at anything that dared come near her or her friends. It was a frenzy, worthy of many appraisals and songs, if only anyone had taken the courtesy of actually writing them. Alas, no one did. In the end,  most of the orcs were slain while some had fled, afraid of so much power. Tony, though she was a woman, still wore the clothes she came with, meaning a white jacket and matching pants, and a blue shirt underneath. Though this is not strange in our world, it did surprise the orcs rather a lot and threw them off balance. Not to mention the fact that Tony could seriously kick ass if she wanted to. She was now looking after Barahir, who had a very serious injury on his arm.

'We have to find some water to cleanse the wound with.' She said to Erthador, who ran of to fetch some for her. In between, something was stirring in Tony's mind again. Cleanse? That sounds familiar, she thought to herself. But there wasn't much time for thought, as Erthador returned with the water.

'Here you are, Lady Tony. If it isn't too much trouble, I shall take care of his arm for you. This is not the first time one of us has got hurt.' Tony stepped back, and watched Erthador work. He was very skilled, and it didn't take long for Barahir's arm to be perfectly  cleaned and bandaged. Tony also saw a lot of scars on his arm, memories of previous injuries. Barahir saw the look in her eyes and smiled.

'You needn't worry, My lady, they do not hurt me anymore.' He said, trying to be soothing. Tony, however, was thinking something different.

'Ow, it's not that I don't know that. It's just that you have so much more scars than I have. I think I have about nineteen in total, and you have about forty on that arm alone, it seems.' Tony answered. The men looked at her in wonder.

'Then, where did you get those scars? Not in battle, to be sure. A fine lady like yourself surely wouldn't…' Barahir said, but Tony interrupted him.

'I assure you, I did. I used to be quite the fighter. But lately, I have had it easy. The gang-wars are over, nobody bothers nobody these days. Everybody gets along. In the beginning I found it frustrating, you know, not being able to vent. Did some crazy shit that'll make your head spin if I told you. Anyway, I ended up with a serious problem on my hands and a lot of free time. That's when I started watching Hellsing. It's really good stuff, once you get what's going on. With Walter kicking ass, when he's only 69 years old. It's really great!' Tony's mind was drifting off into Hellsing-thoughts, until Barahir prodded her a bit. She started, then looked at the two men, who had lost what she was talking about when it came to Hellsing. She had talked about this "Hellsing" before, though, but it still didn't quite catch on with the guys. They got confused. "A series? What is that, Lady Tony? Something where Hellsings stand in a row, and you look at them? Is it a beverage that you must drink with your friends? Then maybe Walter is outlandish for glass, or sugar, or grog?" And other such things crossed their minds that are just to silly to name. During the night, Erthador and Tony took turns watching over Barahir and each other.

When they awoke shortly after dawn, and had refreshed Barahir's bandages, they were once again on their way. And things looked a lot sunnier this day. This last day of weary travelling would lead them to Minas Tirith, and hopefully to clean clothes.  


	3. chapter 3

**Chapter three**

As they rode into Minas Tirith, Tony got herself a lot of strange looks. She was still in the clothes she came to Middle-Earth with, so it wasn't at all that weird. Most looks weren't very friendly, and Tony was sure that, hadn't her two chaperones been there, that people would've started throwing rotten food at her. She kept her eyes on the road, and tried to think of happy things. As they made their way up to the citadel, Tony saw that security had tightened, the higher up you went. 

The finally reached their destination; the guard-house of her friends' company of soldiers. Erthador helped Barahir off his horse. Tony didn't need help. She had convinced them of that in a very early stage. As they made their way for the door, a young boy ran up to them.

'I carry a message from the steward. You are to take the stranger to see him at once. You mustn't tarry! His lordship is not in the happiest of moods this bright sunny day.' The boy turned around, and made his back to wherever he had come from. 

'If that be the steward's wish, than we shall. Follow us, Tony.' Barahir said.

'No, Barahir, you stay here. That wound needs looking after. I will take Tony to see the steward.' Barahir mumbled something unintelligible, but decided it best to listen. He went into the guard-house, as Erthador and Tony made their way up to the citadel. 

It turned out to be quite a walk.

'Why didn't we take the horse, Erthador?' Tony asked, after the umpteenth arch they passed.

' It didn't cross my mind. I'm sorry.' 

Tony sighed, and they walked on.

As they stood in front of the heavy oak-door, that stood between them and the steward, Erthador gave Tony some advice.

'Do not speak, unless spoken to. Do not talk of Hellsing, and drool all over the floor. And, most of all, DO NOT SWEAR ANYTHING! Impolitely, a pledge or otherwise, the steward will remember! He has an excellent memory for such occurrences. Try to be polite at all times. Remember, you are lady. Behave like one.'

Then, the door opened.

"It happened, I'm feeling glad. I got sunshine, in a bag. I'm useless, but not for long. The future, is coming on."

Of all the things Tony had expected, it was definitely not what she saw. 


End file.
